


Preferably During Business Hours

by coffeehousehaunt



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: As in they're having sex in a literal closet, Closet Sex, F/F, Kalex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 07:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8002828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeehousehaunt/pseuds/coffeehousehaunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex and Kara are always professional at the DEO. Really. They are. </p>
<p>... With a brief appearance by Lucy Lane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Preferably During Business Hours

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by/originally tagged to [this fantastic gifset](http://anzicyes.tumblr.com/post/146070115305). 
> 
> Also, the title is from "Drive" by Melissa Ferrick.

They don’t pay Kara enough to sit through these briefings.

Actually, they don’t pay her at all, but that’s beside the point.

So it’s no surprise that her attention wanders. Right?

And that when it does come to rest, it’s on Alex’s profile—no more than a glance, but it captures the tilt of her jaw, eyes straight ahead and fixed on Hank like a good soldier, a good example for her squad, the square of her shoulders and her hands clasped behind her back, full of determination to get through this deadly dull meeting.

Alex hates these meetings. She’s said as much to Kara. Multiple times.

It makes Kara’s chest beat with pride, that stance. That fierce alertness. That focus. All the promise Alex has made good on.

And then other things. 

Maybe her gaze lingers for more than a glance.

And maybe it lingers long enough for Alex to feel it and look over, take in her gaze and the heat that’s suddenly pooling between her thighs and pounding in her chest, and smirk just slightly, one brow lifting coyly.

And maybe Kara has to bite her lip at that and think fast. Her eyes flicker over Alex’s body. She has to push out a sigh and lean slightly on the table to feel like she’s getting enough oxygen to her brain.

One corner of Alex’s mouth tucks upward subtly. Unfair.

She forces her gaze away, but she’s suddenly restless, and Kara has never done restless well. Not when her blood is surging and her senses are spiking. Not when she feels more herself and less human than she lets herself be with so many human eyes on her.

It comes out in her hands first.

Alex glances over surreptitiously. Her gaze lingers on Kara’s hands; Kara can see it, peripherally. Her chin rises. She slows the rhythm, graceful and lingering, attentive—like the top of the table is Alex’s skin. Kara sees it move through Alex’s body.

Alex forces her gaze back to the unfortunate analyst who has to pretend like anyone here’s listening to him, and that’s _it_. That’s just _it_.

Kara slides around the table as subtly as she can—hard to be inconspicuous in a red cape, granted—and makes sure to brush by Alex, hiding the motion of her hand under the flutter of her cape, the slow drag of her fingers over the El mayarah tattoo on her waist.

She hears Alex’s heart thud, her blood rushing quicker; the way her stance shifts. The heat rising under her fingertips.

Admirably—and a little predictably—Alex holds it together, doesn’t give anything away about how—if Kara knows Alex, and she _knows_ Alex—she’s suddenly, already, distractingly turned on and submissive.

What Kara can do to Alex with a touch. It’s never gonna get old.

Kara keeps walking, the thrill of power going down her spine like she imagines electricity would feel, her hand tingling from brushing over that marked skin. _Kara’s_ mark.

Alex is being groomed for the directorship. To _lead_. But one touch, and she belongs to Kara. Is wet for Kara. Comes apart for Kara.

_That’s_ power.

//

When she makes it down to the closet, she scans the area, and ducks inside. She paces, shaking her hands out, heart pounding.

It feels like _forever_ , but the clock in the lab across the hall says it’s five minutes. On the dot.

She sees Alex coming down the hallway, normal pace—and then she’s pulled into a conversation with someone. Kara growls internally (and maybe a little externally, too). Can’t science wait another five minutes? Ten?

Twenty?

She’s about ready to step out and yank Alex in here herself, when she sees Alex make her cursory good-bye gesture, and move on. Kara lets out a ragged sigh.

Alex opens the door with a smirk on her face, and Kara manages to wait until she’s turned to shut the door behind her before pouncing.

“Can’t keep it in your—Mmpfh.” Alex’s sentence is cut off by Kara pressing her back against the door—gently, carefully, always carefully, no matter how impatient or needy she feels—and kissing her, sliding her tongue into Alex’s mouth and _kissing_ her, and all that carefully built and disciplined muscle becomes a living, writhing _body_ under her hands.

_Alex’s_ body. Kara doesn’t bother biting back the moan that surfaces at that.

“Have I ever told you how proud I am of you?” Kara husks against Alex’s lips. “And how _hot_ you look in that uniform.”

Alex rasps out a laugh.

“One of these times, I’m gonna have to say no.” Alex husks when they come apart and Kara starts kissing down her neck. “I can’t expect my people to follow me if they think I don’t take my role seriously.”

“Not this time.” Kara says against the skin of Alex’s neck. She works Alex’s shirt free of her belt—careful not to rip anything, she has to be _so_ careful, all the time, even when she’s going crazy at the feel of Alex’s skin, her heartbeat, the way she _smells_ —so she can slide her hands underneath it and feel Alex’s skin warm and bare and _real_ against hers, all that muscle gliding underneath when Alex arches against her grip.

“Not this time.” Alex agrees, and Kara, mouth to Alex’s pulse, knows that’s her cue.

She picks up Alex with one hand, curving over her ass and under her thighs so that she’s supporting Alex’s weight on her forearm, and Alex lifts her legs to wrap them around Kara’s waist. There’s no flicker of doubt that Kara might drop her.

In less than a blink, they’re across the (admittedly small) space and Kara’s knocking cleaning supplies off the shelf to make a space for Alex.

Alex gasps, tangling her fingers in Kara’s hair, tightening on the base of her skull, fingernails raking lightly. The sensation makes Kara feel like she’s going blind, such a submissive gesture, everything focused on _Alex_.

Kara shifts her grip to Alex’s hips and pulls her against her, reserved by her standards, not nearly as strong or possessive as she _needs_ to, needs to _feel_ her—but roughly, to Alex. Just on the far side of discomfort. It drives Alex wild; pressing against Kara, grinding against her stomach.

Kara growls in frustration and rakes her teeth over Alex’s lower lip, opens her mouth and slides against Alex until they fit perfectly.

Alex’s lips will be swollen after this from kissing Kara. It’s not enough, when she’s like this, not _really_ , but it’s what they can get away with, and it is worth it to know that Alex would let her go further if she had the option.

She slips one hand between them again and starts working at Alex’s belt. Alex pulls back slightly and helps, until something comes loose and Alex is digging her knees into Kara’s sides and lifting herself up and sliding her pants down just enough.

Kara barely lets Alex breathe before she’s sinking two fingers inside her, pushing up against Alex lowering herself back down, forcing a groan from Alex’s throat and an inarticulate, hungry sound from her own. Alex’s thighs tremble slightly around Kara’s waist. The hand on the back of her neck stays put, her fingers working gently against her scalp, sifting through her hair.

Alex slides over Kara’s fingers, and Kara’s deep inside her with hardly any effort, just the weight of Alex’s body and her arousal. Her palm presses firmly against Alex’s clit, and she starts to curl her fingers, relentless, confident strokes. Alex slides her arms around Kara’s shoulders and buries her face against her neck, muffling the sounds she’s making, her rough, uneven breathing.

Alex’s thighs are trembling and weak around Kara’s waist; she’s holding Alex up while Alex moves against her.

It’s maddening; it’s not _enough_ , even being buried inside her like this, even seeing just how profoundly what she’s doing _affects_ Alex—she wants to lose herself _with_ Alex. It’s selfish in a way that she’s never managed to be—consciously—anywhere else, with anyone else.

It’s not that she doesn’t get off on getting Alex off, it’s just that, even when she’s topping, she can’t let go.

And normally, normally she wouldn’t even _notice_. It’s that ingrained. And she can _give_. But there’s something swimming up her throat, noises she can’t quite make, actions she doesn’t have words for. Impulses that translate to things like _take_ , and _tangle_ , and even _fuck_ , but it’s so much more than those.

But she can’t find out what those are, because they cross into dangerous places, places littered with broken things.

So she growls and whimpers against Alex’s mouth and digs her fingertips into Alex’s thigh as hard as she knows she’s allowed to, hard enough to bruise but not to leave her limping, drinks up Alex’s moans and something inside her wants to _scream_. Wants to give them _back_ to Alex, too. Let her feel what Alex does to her, wrapped around her like this; what being inside Alex does to _Kara_.

It’s always a little like this, with Alex.

It’s simultaneously soothing and maddening when Alex lifts one hand and curves it around the back of Kara’s neck again, burying the tips of her fingers in the fine hairs there, curling her fingers in the hollows there.  

“Kara, Kara—look at me.” Alex pants into her ear. Kara pulls back, opens her eyes, almost entirely unaware of what she’s doing with them, whether or not there’s light pouring out of them—that blind feeling again. Like the only parts of her that exist are the ones touching Alex. The animal—alien?—part of her just _obeys_.

Alex is looking at her steadily. When she opens her mouth, her eyelashes flutter and her breath rushes out shakily with the curl of Kara’s fingers inside her. “Kara,” She gasps, getting control of her facial muscles again, even though Kara can feel Alex’s body clenching down on her, shivering and fluttering—but she manages. Somehow. “You’re perfect.” Her fingers stroke softly on the back of Kara’s neck, and somehow, it makes it more alright. Alex fighting her way to Kara’s side, even if she’s about to lose, about to be swept away. Alex _hearing_ her. “It’s okay. You’re perfect.”

They’re hanging there for a moment, and Kara’s not about to knock them out of it—but Alex’s hips grind against Kara’s hand, liquid and reflexive, her forehead falls against the curve of Kara’s shoulder and her body pulses around Kara’s fingers and Kara pulls her closer and buries her face against Alex’s neck, letting out a soft sob of her own as Alex comes around her, nails scratching across her shoulders.

She draws it out as long as she can—draws out two or three from her, before the return on her efforts exceeds the time they have, and she slows, nuzzling Alex’s neck, whimpering softly.

“It’s okay,” Alex is saying, and it takes Kara a moment to understand the words, whether or not they’re Kryptonian or English. She’s just listening to the gentle rhythm of Alex’s fingers on the back of her neck, bringing her back down.

Kara takes a shuddering breath and withdraws her fingers, a little reluctantly, drawing one more shudder from Alex, and using that hand to shift her grip on Alex’s hips and hold her flush against her, while Alex kisses her forehead and her temples and tilts Kara’s chin up and _smiles_ when she kisses her.

“I think I can stand.” She says after a moment, and Kara lets her unfold, holds her steady as she finds her feet and adjusts her clothes.

When she’s fastened her belt in place, she surges forward again and captures Kara’s lips, one hand tracing down and over Kara’s neck. Kara shudders at the touch—getting this worked up makes her so much more sensitive to everything. Makes her feel—

Not _human_ ; she’s never _been_ human, never thought of herself that way.

Like herself. Before Earth. Part of something larger than herself in a way that her powers, her reaction to the sun, cuts her off from.

_Alive_. That’s it.

Alex has her turned around and backed up against the shelf by the time she comes back to herself, and her hands are shaking slightly on Alex’s shoulders. Alex is murmuring things against her mouth, soothing things, while her hands work at the hidden catches on her costume.

Kara feels like she’s already naked. Feels painfully out of place in this costume. Whatever she is, at the core of her, has more to do with Alex’s skin on hers than the costume.

Quietly, skillfully, Alex strips away the costume and the persona (or enough of them for this, at least), guides her back against the shelf until Kara slides up onto it—

“Sorry I missed the start of the party,” A voice comes from the door, a little dry, but warm and confident at the same time, “But I had a feeling we’d be needing these.”

Kara’s eyes fly open, and Alex pulls away from Kara’s mouth to turn and see—

Lucy, in the doorway, the door mostly shut behind her, a pair of cuffs dangling from one index finger that, tellingly, are completely solid to Kara’s vision. There’s a thin green stripe on one edge of the cuffs, but that’s not the payload— _that_ has to be encased in the lead, to moderate Kara’s exposure to it.

Alex looks back at Kara, a grin spreading across her face. Kara winds one arm around one of Alex’s and tangles their fingers together.

_Now_ she can let go.

 


End file.
